Текст Jethro Tull – Ears Of Tin

In the late hours of a sunset rendezvous —
chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city — got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye — I’m bound for the mainland.

Island in the city, Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.

Now the sum breaks through rain as I climb Glen Shiel
on the trail of those old cattlemen who drove their bargain south again.
And in the eyes of those five sisters of Kintail
there’s a wink of seduction from the mainland.

Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise — their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin.

Take my heart and take my brawn.
Take by stealth or take by storm —
set my brain to cruise.
I can see the glow of the suburb lights.
I’m fresh from the out-world —
singing the mainland blues.

There was a girl where I came from.
Seems a long time, long time gone by.
Wears the west wind in her hair.
She calls from the hill — yeah, she calls
in my mainland blues.

There’s a coast road that winds to heaven’s door
where a fat ferry floats on muted diesel roar.
And there’s a light on the hillside — and there’s a flame in her
eyes, but how cold the lights burn on the mainland.

Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.